Hurricane Night of the Hunters
by Sakura123
Summary: Death comes on swift wings, but rarely does it catch you. Gary "Roach" Sanderson should know. He's met her several times. SPOILERS for COD: MW2. COMPLETE.
1. I: Up Is Down

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Hurricane Night of the Hunters

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**Title: Hurricane Night of the Hunters**

**Summary:** Death comes on swift wings, but rarely does it catch you. Gary "Roach" Sanderson should know. He's met her several times. SPOILERS for COD: MW2.

**Prompt:** Writer's Choice

**Author: Sakura123** (weber_dubois22)

**Rating:** **T**

**Characters:** Roach; MacTavish; Ghost; Price; Shepherd; Taskforce 141

**Chapters:** 1/5

**Word Count: 7039**

**Written: 12/13/09**

**Completed: 12/14/09**

**Disclaimer**: _Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2_ and all things related are property of Infantry Ward.

**Authors Note:** This is my first Call of Duty fanfiction, greatly inspired by the silent awesomeness of "Roach" Sanderson, Kevin McKidd (Scottish sexiness. _Rawr!_) and the video game itself. All the chapters and the title itself are named after Hans Zimmer, John Powell, and 30 Seconds to Mars songs. I honestly hadn't meant for the story to end up be a semi-translation of the levels of the games themselves, but that's how it turned out. I apologize in advance for any technical errors. Enjoy!

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**I: Up is Down**

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"Hold on, hold on!" MacTavish shouted as he slid down the face of the cliff. Gary stifled his attempts to scream as he scrambled to regain his footing on the cliff. The spikes of his shoes failed to penetrate the ice, his hands flailed wildly on the face of the cliff before the pick of his left arm hit a snag. "Ugh!" His body came to a abrupt halt, knocking him away from the wall. His right leg and arm dangled freely in the air, ice falling from his boot and glove.

Gary Sanderson regarded the foggy chasm below with wide eyes, occasionally glancing at the dangling ice pick attached to wrist of his glove. Christ on a cracker, he almost bit the dust that time! The weight of his body was putting a strain on his arm and he was beginning to think captain MacTavish had abandoned him. Gary looked up, intending call for aid when MacTavish appeared in a blast of snow and ice, arm out stretched to catch him.

Gary grabbed a hold of his hand without hesitation, unable to help the relieved smile that crossed his frosted lips. MacTavish paid little attention to it, with a simple nod his head he started to swing Gary over to a more stable part of the cliff. Pushing off with his left foot, Gary vaulted toward the other side of the cliff. Raising his right arm, he brought the ice pick down on the frozen surface and yanked.

The ice pick held. With the help of his captain, he pulled himself back up onto stable ground. MacTavish was quick to follow him up the cliff, grumbling nonsense to himself about moppets, or muppets (one of the two). Gary remained on his knees, trying steady his trembling body. "You alright, Roach?" MacTavish's brogue caught him off guard for a second. He leaned away from the man when he noticed how close the man's leg was to his head.

"F-fine," He mumbled. "Choked up for a second, I guess."

Since being hand-picked to join the four-one-four task force by general Shepherd, Gary had spent a lot of time trying to find his niche among the multinational group of soldiers. A majority of them seemed to hail from Canada, Australia and the UK, they got along like ducks in a pond or brothers separated at birth. Gary found himself spending most of his time with the US branch of the task force, as most his friends (Allen, Worm and Meat, anyway) had been transferred over with him. Even then, those outside of his circle of friends wouldn't talk to him.

It wasn't that he didn't know how to handle himself among the more national soldiers, far from it. But they all seemed to regard him as the "outcast" of some sort (maybe because he was a FNG? Garry didn't know). It made for some awkward small talk when they teased or called him something he needed a hand book to figure out the meaning of.

Shepherd seemed to notice his self-alienation from the other parts of the force (whenever he visited) and without warning, he and his comrades were teamed with MacTavish, Riley, Ozone and Archer. For the last week, Gary had spent most of his time familiarizing himself with Ghost, who was quick to befriend him and the others. Gary hoped to get to know Ozone and Archer a little better before this week was through.

MacTavish, on the other hand... this was his first mission with the guy. Sufficed to say, despite the Scotsman's relatively friendly demeanor, Gary felt intimidated by MacTavish's appearance alone. Stony-faced, mohawked and single-minded when it came to the mission's details, MacTavish rarely gave Sanderson the opportunity to do anything except answer in the affirmative when he gave him a command.

"Alright, on your feet, Roach," Without thinking, Roach raised his hand to MacTavish, the man took hold of his hand without question and pulled. Standing up, Gary tried to hide the grimace at the use of his nickname. If MacTavish noticed, he hid any indication of it. "Not terribly graceful, are ya?" The ghost of a grin crossed his face, Gary relaxed a little at the sight.

"No, sir," Roach answered, adjusting the goggles on his head. Obstacle courses were never his strong point; more often than not, Gary tripped over his own feet in his attempt to get the best time. He blamed his mother for his clumsiness, but that wasn't case here. He honestly wasn't sure why his legs locked up the second his feet reached the edge of the cliff, he just hoped it wouldn't happen again. Mistakes like that would get him killed, which was something he couldn't afford. Not with the missions he getting assigned to. MacTavish patted him on the shoulder. "C'mon, we've got a mission to complete." Roach nodded and followed him up the snowy hill.


	2. II: Tangiers

**II: Tangiers**

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"Roach, c'mon, let's go! Move!" Ghost appeared out of nowhere and gave his back a hard slap as he ran by.

Gary watched Riley rejoin the others as they vanished around a tattered market stand, reloading his M14 he followed them. The cramp in his leg seemed to increase the faster he ran, he was falling behind the others fast. The childish compulsion to tell his team mates to "wait up" bubbled in his throat, but the angry cries of the Brazilian militia made him think twice.

Bullets came zipping past him, hitting everything within in the surrounding area. He flinched as splintered bits of wood hit him in the face. Turning on his heel, he aimed his pistol at the oil drum and fired twice. The solders were swallowed in a flash of fire and smoke, slowing the advancement of the other soldiers. Turning back around, Roach bolted down the stairs, dodging the onslaught of machine gunfire as he did so. The uneven ground made him trip as he attempted to speed up.

"...Nikolai's Pave Low, let's go!"

MacTavish's voice rose briefly over the sound of gunfire, Gary compelled himself to move faster. He rounded the corner just in time to catch Beercat and Ghost vanish into a house behind MacTavish. Gary holstered his pistol, switching back to the M14. He stumbled through the door way, rifle raised. There was no one inside besides Beercat, who stopped at the final doorway at the end of the room when he spotted Gary falling behind. "Roach, hurry up man!" He cried, waving him over.

Gary gave his leg a shake, the cramp was getting worse. He reached the end of the room and followed Beercat outside. Across from them, Ghost was crouched behind the stone wall, AK-47 raised over his head, going full blast at the tangos inside the crowded houses. MacTavish was against the wall covered in red and white posters, yelling into the mouth piece of his headset, one a glance skyward and Roach spotted Nikolai's helicopter as it glided over them, observing the action below.

"RPG!" Ghost shouted. They only had a second to react, Gary spotted the missile approaching from the window of the house on the right. Instinctively, Beercat and Gary ducked, the RPG went flying over their heads into the building behind them. Chunks of concrete came raining down them, through the bits of dust and rock, Roach watched as the Pave Low veered away from their position. _Where the fuck was that Russian going?!_

Once the tangos were eliminated by Ghost and MacTavish, Gary and Beercat picked themselves off the ground. Their captain was already in motion, hurrying towards the houses as he reloaded his gun. "Come on! We've got to get the rooftops! This way!" Ghost was the first to follow after him, Beercat and Roach were next. From behind, Gary could hear the Brazilian militia regrouping. If they got of this alive, he would make a note of it to never visit Brazil. _Ever._

With one hop, all three of his teammates hoisted themselves up onto the rooftop. Just watching them to do that made his leg hurt even more. "C'mon, Roach, pick up the pace!" Gary grabbed MacTavish's hand and half-helped him pull his weight up over the ledge. Resuming their escape, they followed after Beercat and Ghost, who leaped across the gaps between the roofs as if they were nothing.

_"My friend, from up here, it looks like the _whole_ village is trying to kill you!"_ Nikolai's voice in his ear was like a burst of static, unconsciously Gary raised a hand to scratch his throbbing ear. "Yeah, tell me something I _don't_ know! Just be ready to pick us up!" MacTavish retorted.

MacTavish look the lead again as Beercat and Ghost reached the end of the connected rooftops, ahead of them he could a huge gap between them and the next roof, where Nikolai's helicopter was now waiting for them. "We're running out of rooftop!" Ghost commented, pumping his legs faster as he reached the end.

"We can make it! Go!" The three of them jumped, Gary watched them soar through the air like birds taking flight, they landed on the slanted rooftop below in a roll. Picking up his feet, Roach launched himself off the roof as well. Almost immediately his right leg gave way to cramp that'd been building up since his pursuit of Rojas. _Fuck, not this again._ His form ruined, Gary felt himself flailing through the air as his body approached the edge of the slanted roof with horrifying speed. He slammed into the roof, chest first, his entire upper body went limp.

His arms slammed down on the metal surface and his hands scratched at the roof in a vain to keep from falling. The scene unfolded in slow motion, the dead weight of his lower body pulled him down off the roof and Gary knew this was it. His fingers grabbed a hold of the very edge of the roof in a meager attempt to hoist himself back up. Like he did before, MacTavish appeared out of nowhere, arm outstretched and ready to catch him.

"Captain!" Using his left hand, Gary grabbed hold of his captain's fingers and squeezed.

All he succeeded in doing, however, was losing his glove to MacTavish's grip. Gary watched the world fall in a spiral as he plummeted to his apparent death, he landed hard on the ground and blacked out. For the longest time, there was nothing but the sound of his own heart beat, slow and steady. Darkness clouded his vision as feeling slowly started to resurface in his limbs. How the hell did he survive that fall? _Fucking Roach indeed,_ mused to himself.

_"Roach! Roach! Roach, wake up!"_ Captain MacTavish. He hadn't left him! Opening his eyes, Gary surveyed his blurred surroundings. He laid in a narrow pathway, surrounded by buildings that seemed ready to topple over and fall on him. Nausea twisted his stomach in knots, if he could throw up he would be just fine. _Gag reflex ain't working._

"_Roach, we can see you from the chopper! The militia's comin' for ya, dozens of 'em!"_ Ghost.

_"Get the hell up man, your being surrounded!" _Beercat.

Surrounded? Now that got his attention. Grabbing hold of a wall beside him, Gary slowly became aware of the angry voices and tall shadows crowding in around him, armed to the teeth with guns (and God knows what else). Where the hell was he supposed to go?

_"Roach, get the hell outta there! Get back to the rooftops and meet us at the L-Zed! Move! Go!" _MacTavish's panicked order seemed to reach him the moment he laid eyes on the open doorway in front of him, peering inside he saw another doorway. Moving with a speed he didn't think he could have, Gary vanished inside the doorway as the tangos started to shoot. Drywall, plaster and glass exploded into a array of bullet-confetti, Gary threw his arms over his head and ducked down. He imagined they were all trying to get inside the door at once, the proximity of their bullets were too close for comfort.

Stumbling out the house, he dashed half-way down the stairs before jumping. He landed on the ground on his feet, ahead of him he saw a civilian take cover in a corner, arms thrown over his head as well. Gary ran past him and inside another house, he barely exited the living room before more bullets came raining down on him again. "Jesus H. Christ!" Grabbing the baluster, Gary launched himself up the stairs. In the corner of his eye he spotted two soldiers enter the tiny hallway of the house, Gary vanished behind the next door way and nearly cried with relief.

He burst through the rooftop exit, wincing when the sunlight hit him straight in the eyes. The whir of helicopter blades sounded-off above his head, he looked up. The Pave Low glided over him, its landing wheels were still down and prepped for landing. "_Roach, keep movin', the militia's right on top of ya!"_ Ghost's warning urged him to move faster. Jumping over the uneven surface, Gary's head turned from side to side. The militia were converging on his location from all sides, they fired through the chain link fence blocking their direct path to him.

_This is decidedly worse than falling from a icy cliff_, he mused. As-per MacTavish's instructions, he turned left and jumped down into a more guarded area, the tangos on the rooftop across from him pelted the wood and metal surface of the makeshift balcony, Gary breathed a very short sigh of relief before jumping out from behind the cover. He ran across the balcony and jumped down onto the slanted rooftop. Straightening his body, Gary raised his arms and positioned his feet so that were pointing upward, he slid down the roof with ease. The soles of his feet broke the glass of the bedroom window, tightening his arms he winced as the glass cut through his skin and clothing. Rolling off the bed, Gary pushed himself off the ground and ran for the open balcony window.

The Pave Low appeared in the nick of time, ladder already dangling below. The helicopter door opened, revealing MacTavish. "Come on! Jump for it!" He could barely hear the captain over the roar of the helicopter blades, but he didn't need to hear him to know what he was saying to him. _Legs don't fail me now,_ Gary rushed across the rooftop and jumped as far as his legs could push him. He sailed through the air as if aided by the hand of God himself, Gary landed on the ladder with a grunt. His hands grabbed a hold of the steps for dear life, he was literally dangling in the air.

_"Nikolai, we go him! Get us out of here!"_ He heard MacTavish order.

_"Where to my friend?"_

_"Just get us to the sub."_ A pause. "_Roach, you alright?"_

"I'll live, captain," Roach relayed.

_"Okay, hang tight. We'll pull you up in a minute."_

The helicopter veered away from the crowded village of houses and their angry occupants. Gary watched with half opened eyes as the militia observed their departure, firing their guns as they did so. "Assholes," He muttered breathlessly. Glancing down, he watched the world below him pass in a blur of blue and green. A moment later, he leaned away from the ladder and hurled his lunch into the air.


	3. III: Rock House Jail

**III: Rock House Jail**

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Roach felt the shock of the explosion as he turned his head away from it, behind him he could hear MacTavish giving out orders to the rest of the squad as he approached his location. Taking two deep breaths, Roach jumped into the fray, raising his gun on the target obscured by the dust, there were to things he noticed. One, the tango he was about to shoot had a chain around his neck; Two, the man holding the chain looked like a old-time beggar from the 1920s, which meant he was one of the gulag's prisoners. Hopefully, he was Prisoner 627.

As he hurried inside, careful to put enough distance between himself and the two other men occupying the room, Roach prepared to pull the trigger on the Russian hostage. The beggar, however, had other plans. Before Roach's finger was properly on the trigger, the tango-captor swung his fist at him. Pain shot through his jaw as he was sent off balance. For the second time that week, he was sent into a dizzying spin and blacked out.

When he came to, the prisoner had the barrel of the Russian's weapon trained on his head. Roach raised his hands in a meager surrender, yet felt compelled to stare the man down anyway. "Drop it!" MacTavish came up from behind the prisoner, his pistol aimed at his head. _Sucker,_ Roach couldn't help but think. The man didn't react so much at first, he kept a steady hold on his gun and stared right back Roach. "Soap?" He rasped, finally lowering the gun from Roach's face. MacTavish also seemed to suffer from a delay in acknowledging what was spoken to him, Roach watched with mild irritation as MacTavish lowered his guard and leaned back to regard the man. "John Price?" He asked, equally surprised. The man supposedly known as Price turned to regard MacTavish, a small smile appeared behind the unkempt beard. Almost as quickly as he whipped out the gun, MacTavish handed the M1911 to the tango-captor. "This belongs to you sir," He said.

_What the hell kind of a name is "Soap"?_

As if reading his mind, Worm came up and joined them, never noticing Roach on the ground, and asked, "Who's Soap?" All questions were stopped dead in their tracks, however, when a series of explosions went off above their heads. Roach shielded his head from the falling debris, while the others scrambled to make an exit. "C'mon, lad!" Suddenly, Roach was hauled off the ground by the man who put him there. Stumbling to his feet, Roach broke into a run and observed the destruction going on around them. Those trigger happy SOBs were bombing the damn gulag while they were still inside! What the hell was Shepherd doing, filing his nails? He was supposed to be stalling them!

"Get a move on guys, the Navy's bringing this whole place down! Move, move!" MacTavish ordered, taking the front. There was a unanimous "Roger!" from all those following MacTavish, with the exception of Mr. Price, who seemed determined to out-run Roach. At least, that's what Roach thought anyways. They navigated the tunnels of the concentration camp with ease, with no opposition, getting out alive would be a cake-walk. Ahead of them, Roach spotted the chopper hovering in place, waiting for them to the board.

As they started to approach the exit, another explosion landed up above; the ceiling was coming down with a thunderous crash, Roach rebounded and rushed back down the hall. "Holy, shit! They're gonna kill us!" Worm shouted over the blasts. Roach couldn't help but agree with his friend. MacTavish and Price took the lead, with MacTavish leading them back to where they started after clearing out the gulag's bathroom. Roach dodged several chunks of stone that fell down around him, he nearly felt compelled to pull out his gun and shoot at the walls.

"We're gonna die in here, man! Do something, MacTavish!" Worm ranted.

"Shut up, Worm! Pull yourself together!" MacTavish snapped angrily, reaching for his gun. Roach prepared to join his captain underneath the gaping hole when something heavy hit his head; He didn't acknowledge it at first, but when the second wave of pain hit him, Roach realized he'd just been bludgeoned by the damn gulag itself. He watched his vision turn red with blood and the world tilt off axis for the second time that day.

As if to add insult to injury, his head bounced off the jagged rock on the ground, causing his vision to fail him completely. Everything reacted in slow motion, MacTavish twisting just in time to see him on the ground, Worm rushing to his aid and Price looking down at him with a semi-indifferent expression. "Roach is down! _**Roach!**_**"** MacTavish shouted, rushing forward.

_If this kept happening, Shepherd was going to kick him off the team._

"Soap, if your gonna do something, do it now!"

Roach opened his eyes again, wincing as the object crushing his chest was removed, his lungs swelled with air as he inhaled, his way of thaking his savior. He felt two fingers being pressed lightly against his neck, his pulsed seemed to beat in response to the contact. Shifting his half-mass gaze to the left, he spotted Price leaning over him, wearing that same look of indifference on his face. Across from him Worm and MacTavish were firing their signal flares up into the hole in the floor, Roach watched the sparks dance around them like fairies freed from their cages. Roach pressed his face to the cool surface of the ground below him, all for closing his eyes and going back to sleep.

A harsh slap on the face from Price, however, snapped him right out of his stupor. "Wake up, you bloody idiot, you've got a concussion," He informed, grabbing him by the arm. _All the more reason to --- _Roach made a face. _Oh, a _concussion_...! Yeah, yeah, that's not---_

"Roach, wake up, soldier! Rescue's here!" MacTavish's voice had Roach's eyes opening just a little more than before, he stared at his captain with a bewildered expression before finally noticing the zip-line between him and Worm. Price dragged him over to the hole, a blast of cold water on his head was a shock to Roach's system which woke him completely.

His eyes throbbed a little less now that the heat from his face had lessened, he watched the others hook themselves up to the zip line. The rope danced its way back up the hole like a agitated snake, a second later it became taut. MacTavish was the first be yanked up the hole, followed by Price and Worm. Roach prepared to comment on the speedy exit his friends made then were was a violent yank at his waist line.

Without warning, Roach found himself speeding up through the rabbit hole (now with added holes, no thanks to the marines). Below him, the debris and fire chased him like a dragon on the hunt for its meal, it was this type of crazy adrenaline rush that Roach lived for nowadays. Above him, he heard Worm screaming all sorts of profanities at the burning doom below him.

A second later, Roach was out of the gulag and being dragged high up into the air. In a flash the entire Russian fortress was engulfed by fire, escaping from all sides and corners of the structure. The final explosion rocketed upward toward Roach, swallowing his scream, he threw his arms up over his face as the fire engulfed him. The helicopter veered away from fortress completely, pulling Roach out of the fire.

As far as he could tell, he still had his skin, he could still see and he wasn't on fire.


	4. IV: At Wit's End Interlude

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IV: At Wit's End (Interlude)

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Roach moaned as he pressed a bag of frozen vegetables on his head. He couldn't bare to look into the mirror, his face was a black and blue mess of bruises caused by stones. He sat alone in the mess hall of the aircraft carrier, finally awake after falling asleep while dangling from the zip line after escaping the gulag. When he finally came to on the aircraft carrier, the medics were quick to remind him how lucky he was for even coming out of his unconscious state. With all the shit that was going on around them, Roach considered himself lucky to even be alive. It wasn't his fault he blacked out, he blamed the artic chill beating him from all sides. After his examination, it was deemed safe to take a nap, so he took a nap. Now was he was sitting alone---

"Sergeant, what you doin' up?" Gary glanced up the stainless steel table with a grunt. Ghost --- or Riley, as he wasn't wearing his battle mask now --- stood at the end of the table Gary was sitting at, dressed in boxers and a green t-shirt. Gary pointed to the frozen food pack on the side of his face with a slight grimace. "My head hurt, so I went to put some ice on it," He answered simply. Riley rolled his eyes and joined his friend at the table.

"That's not a ice pack," Ghost poked the bag with his finger. Gary waved him off. "I didn't feel like being badgered by the medics, so I figured I would thaw out my dinner out with my head. Win-win situation, right?"

Ghost rolled his eyes.

"What about you, mate? What are you doin' up?" Gary attempted to mimic Riley's accent to no avail, Ghost made a face and laughed at him. "That was awful, bro," He said in a perfect "American" accent. Gary started to shrug his shoulders, a blistering pain rain up his spine and he winced. He was sore all over, the seemingly endless onslaught of missions and blows to his body were leaving him more over-stretched than a rubber band. Every muscle in his body felt ready to give out at any minute and he was sitting down. There had to be a end to it at some point, right? They had to be closer to catching Makarov today than they were yesterday.

"You aught to be resting, Roach," Ghost spoke, breaking the silence.

"I oughta be doing a lot of things. According to my mother, I oughta be married with children already," Gary mused. "I oughta be working hard in a office somewhere instead of shooting terrorists for a living."

"Uh..."

"Nevermind, forget I said anything, man," Gary sighed. "I'll rest. I just needed some time to think about things."

"Like marriage and children?" Ghost inquired, propping his chin on the back of his hand. Gary shook his head, marriage and children were the farthest things from his mind right now. He missed his lover (as she adored be called), Milla, like hell though. He'd spent the last week trying to think of a proper letter to write and send to her, but nothing ever came of it. He really hoped Milla and his parents were alright, he hadn't been able to get hold of them since the Russian's invaded Washington and Baltimore. He tried not to, but he could only assume the worst happened to them.

"No, more about that Price fellow," He huffed. "Who the hell is he anyways?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea, mate," Said Ghost, his expression was equally as perplexed. "MacTavish seems know him, though."

"Yeah, well, I hope Scotty tells us soon. I don't like being punched and bossed around by guys I don't know," Gary grumbled.

Silence settled between the two again and nothing more was said.


	5. V: Leave No Man Behind

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V: Leave No Man Behind

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"Friendly fire! Friendly fire!" Ghost's voice startled Roach's finger off the trigger of the gun.

The masked man threw him a angry look (or at least Roach thought he did, he couldn't tell with the sunglasses hiding his eyes), shakily, Roach signed an apology to him. He didn't mean to fire on his teammate, but the combination of near misses with RPGs and flash bang grenades really fucked up his sense of perception. Ghost's uniform, identical to his, could've past for the uniforms the Russians were wearing with his double vision.

At both entrances to the house, several dead Russians laid on the ground in a heap, bleeding over each other. He, Ghost, Ozone, Toad and Scarecrow had spent the last thirty minutes defending the DSM, as it downloaded the information from the computer's HD, from Makarov's men as they attempted to reclaim the safe house.

MacTavish (or Soap, he later learned from the captain) and Price were off in Afghanistan, looking in on a arms deal, while the rest of the task force went to investigate the safe houses Makarov had in Russia. For the most part, the sweeping of the earlier safe houses were simple, despite the heavy resistance they were met with. Sanderson was growing antsy as the number of houses started to dwindle, however. Something big was coming. Everyone expected, _hoped_, the last one to be the one Makarov taken refuge in, and from the mortar ambush they barely come out of, they weren't wrong in thinking that way.

In charge of breaching the building, Gary and Scarecrow proceeded to sweep the building, ridding all the rooms of the tangos (hidden and in the open). Ghost and the others followed behind, with the intention of knocking off any resistance that might've been missed. By the final room, the safe house was cleared of the enemy presence. Makarov was nowhere to be found inside the safe house, Archer suspected that he never was to begin with. _Well, that's just fuckin' peachy,_ Gary thought angrily to himself.

Regrouping on Ghost's mark, they prepared to dig in and defend the safe house while DSM copied the files from Makarov's computer. Everyone positioned themselves around the entrances of the safe house, while Scarecrow aided Roach in defending the office. There were plenty of weapons in the basement below them, Gary had set up claymores ahead of time around the unguarded entrances and snipers were ready to take out the approaching enemies. They had the situation under control, Roach just hoped they would last long enough --- he swore the damn computer was running on dial-up.

The Russian's stormed the unnamed entrances, Roach grinned when the sound of their screams, combined by the claymores going off, echoed behind him. Scarecrow and Roach proceeded to unload their weapons on the converging tangos, switching positions when it was needed. The quicker the Russians seemed to spawn, the faster the two ran out of ammo; Roach found himself resorting to his frag grenades more often than he would've liked, using them as the cover he needed to grab a magazine or gun from the weapons cache. On his final run to the cache, Scarecrow was hit twice in the leg and brought down permanently by a bullet between the eyes.

Roach was on his own in defending the DSM and the two doorways, he prayed the others were doing better outside the safe house than he was inside of it. By the time the DSM had downloaded 1,000 of the computer's files, Ozone had been taken down as well, leaving only Ghost, Toad and Archer to defend the exterior of the safehouse. Gary was faced with the grim possibility that they wouldn't survive this mission and for the first time, he found himself wishing that he hadn't been picked for the 141 taskforce at all.

Makarov always seemed to be one step ahead of them, they only seemed to be succeeding in causing minor interference in his plans, not hindering or crippling them at all. All the men they'd killed were like a small scratch on a car that could be easily repaired. It was like they were being undermined by the forces of fate. They just kept coming, and Roach was getting tired of raising his gun and pulling the trigger. _Just stay down, Goddamnit._

Scarecrow and Ozone were dead, so were Toad and Archer as far as he knew, as they hadn't radioed back to them since going to relocate to another position. Reloading his weapon, Roach prepared for the next wave of tangos when there was beep across from him. The DSM had finished its download. _Yes!_ Lowering his weapon, Roach hurried over to the work desk and unhooked the DSM from the computer. "Ghost! Ghost, its done!" He shouted as loud as his sore throat would allow him. Ghost rushed out of the adjacent room.

"Roger, let's get the L-Zed, pronto! Archer, we're Oscar-mike!" Ghost affirmed. Opening his vest, Roach slipped the DSM into the inner pocket and followed Ghost out the front door. The Russians were closing in on the house like falcons rushing in for the kill, in the corner of his eye he spotted Archer rushing toward them --- sniper rifle hanging on his back and his twin pistols drawn.

"_This is Shepherd, we're almost at the LZ. What's your status, over?"_ For once, the general's voice was like a signal for safe passage, they were gonna get out of this shitstorm after all.

"We're on our way to the L-Zed. Archer! Roach, Let's go!" Ghost relayed, waving his teammates to move ahead of them. Roach pulled ahead of the Lieutenant, the steep and winding pathway gave the Sergeant some trouble. In the distance he could see more Russian soldiers moving in on their position, checking his UMP, Roach aimed to the right and opened fire.

The tangos went down, machine guns flailing about as they hit the ground. "They're bracketing our position for mortars! Keep moving, but watch your back!" Ghost shouted, tossing a frag grenade to the right. The trio left the more exposed area of the mountain area and headed into the forest, the trees served as excellent cover against the gunfire raining down on them.

The United States Army would really have to look into drafting soldiers wholesale, the Russian's just seemed to have a unlimited to supply of--- Roach's train of thought was cut short when he literally ran into a tango. The surprise on the man's face was sure to be identical to Roach's, throwing himself forward, Roach knocked the Russian down. He scrambled to his feet as the tango's teammates caught sight of him, he disappeared into the trees once again and stumbled down the pathway.

"We gotta get to the L-Zed! Roach, come on!" Ghost's voice came from somewhere behind him, foolishly, Roach turned to see where he was. It was in that moment that everything seemed to go off in a flurry of smoke and explosions. In the corner of his eye, Roach watched the ground jump out toward him in a wave of dirt before finally hitting him. The force explosion knocked him silly, with no sense of direction, Roach's braced himself as his body was flung about like a rag doll. The last thing he saw was the ground rushing up to meet his face.

"I've got you Roach, hang on!"

Roach crawled out from his unconscious state with a haggard couch, his head was ringing worse than it was after the brush with the first RPG inside the safehouse, his entire body was alight with pain. There was nowhere to turn to escape it. If there ever was a time that Roach wished he were elsewhere, someplace else besides his own body, this would be it. Above him, he could hear the sounds of battle going on without him, the ground trembled angrily with tremors from explosions. Tilting his head slightly, Roach could see Ghost above him, dragging him across the grassy hillside as he shouted into his mouthpiece for back-up.

Roach attempted to speak, but his words were choked by the sudden swell of blood bubbling in his throat which sent him into a coughing fit. Blood drizzled out of his mouth, Roach felt his heart rate increase at the mere sensation of it.

"Ghost---!" He gagged, twisting his wrist. Ghost yanked on his arm in response. "I've got ya, mate!" He shouted. Turning his head, he watched Ghost drop his right arm and grab hold of his hood, dragging him out of the battle zone by his sweat jacket. Roach snatched a discarded AK-47 off the ground and fired at the nearest Russian in front of him. _I'm not out this fight yet._

"Thunder Two-one, cleared hot!" Ghost roared over the chaos. A large shadow blocked out the light of the afternoon sun, Roach paused in his assault to catch the undercarriage of the little bird as it soared over them toward the tangos. The whirl the mini-guns, as they opened fire on the Russians, kept Roach awake long enough to pull the trigger of the AK-47 several more times. He got one more Russian soldier before his finger slipped from the trigger and his vision started to darken, he lowered his weapon to the ground and struggled to stay awake.

_I'm gonna die, I don't wanna die._

"Roach, hang in there!"

When Roach woke up again, the entire forest area was smoldering with smoke from mortar and mini-gun fire, he could still feel himself being dragged which meant Ghost hadn't left him for dead yet. "Come on! Get up!" Ghost kneeled down to the ground and pulled hard on his right arm, Gary heard a tiny whine escape his lips as he was hauled off the ground. "Get up, get up! We're almost there," Ghost threw his teammate's arm over his shoulder and steadied him with his arm around his waist. Gary slouched slightly in his grasp, Ghost tightened his arm around his waist and fought to keep him upright.

Across from them a Pave Low landed with it's bay door wide open, Gary breathed a short sigh of relief at the sight of general Shepherd waiting for them. _R and R, here I come._ Four little birds landed around the Pave Low, unloading several soldiers --- they're back up, Roach assumed. They spread out around them, converging on the battle zone behind them. Roach noticed that they were wearing uniforms he'd never seen before, he wondered if they were a new addition to the taskforce. General Shepherd proceeded out of the helicopter toward them, Roach watched the older man with anticipation.

"Have you got the DSM?" He asked.

Ghost gave a curt nod of his head. "We've got it, sir!"

"Good," Shepherd approached them in a semi-crouched position, hand shielding his eyes from the dust flying around them. Gary reached out and steadied himself with the man's shoulder, Shepherd regarded the young man with indifference. "Good. That's one less loose end." Ghost and Gary silently agreed with the general and prepared to move toward the Pave Low when the sound of a dull pop vibrated in their ears.

Neither man acknowledged it at first, Gary was more worried why he'd jumped and where the odd warmth spreading through his abdomen was coming from, then his legs buckled beneath him. Ghost watched Roach slip from his grasp and hit the ground with a thud, brown eyes staring blankly up at sky. Ghost shifted his gaze toward Shepherd. In his hand, leveled directly where Roach had been standing, was a .44 Magnum Revolver. The general had shot Roach! Ghost stumbled back in shock, hands trembling on his UMP.

_"No!"_

From below, Roach watched Shepherd raise his gun and shoot Ghost point-blank in the head as though he were a pesky inconvenience. Ghost's arms fell from their raised position, he hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, all he could see of him now was his knee. Shepherd holstered his gun, he lowered himself to ground and started to search Gary, ignoring the fact that his eyes were watching him. Gary would've cried if he could; Why the hell did Shepherd shoot them? The general in question pulled the DSM from the inner pocket of his vest and stood back up. The next thing Roach knew, the soldiers from the little birds were heading toward them.

When he came to again, Roach felt himself being swung from side to side. Through the haze obscuring his vision he spotted the soldiers again, they had him by his arms and legs. On the final swing they tossed him into a ditch, his body rolled once before coming to a stop near the wall of the freshly dug hole. What little motor function he had left allowed him to turn his head, he could see more soldiers dragging his friends toward the ditch, Ghost being the closest. Riley's sweat jacket was stained with blood, they had shot him again. _Why were they doing this?_

The soldier's tossed Ghost into the ditch, he rolled until he was stopped by Gary's own prone body. Archer, Toad, Scarecrow and Ozone were quick to follow, thrown right above Roach's head. Two more soldiers came up to the ditch, in their hands were containers of gasoline. Popping the lids, the first soldier vanished to the right while the second proceeded to dowse Ghost and Gary down with the putrid liquid.

Gary choked as it the gasoline made it's way down his throat, his eyes stung but he refused to close them (he wasn't even sure he could at this point). Shifting them to the right, he saw Shepherd approach the ditch.

Static echoed in his headset. _"Ghost, come in! This Price! We're under attack by Shepherd's men in the bone yard! Ghost, talk to us mate! Do not trust Shepherd! I say again, do not trust Shepherd! ...Soap, get down!"_

There had to be some twisted sort of irony at work here.

Shepherd regarded both him and Ghost as he took one last drag of his cigar. There was no remorse and no grief in his expression, just the same damn indifference Roach found annoying whenever Price bothered to look at him. With a flick of his fingers, Shepherd rid himself of his cigar.

Gary Sanderson barely had a chance to steel himself before the bud hit him directly on the chest and ignited the gasoline. Whatever numbness he had experienced was long gone. The burning gasoline found its way to his nervous system and ate away at him as he started to scream.

* * *

**End Transmission**

* * *

**Authors Note #2:** I dunno why, but when I watched "Takedown" (Ghost's first appearance in the game) I swore that Ghost was being voiced by Christian Bale before discovering it was Craig (and not Chris", pardon the fowl up with his name) Fairbrass. It is freaky as hell he almost sounds like him (to me).


End file.
